


None So Blind

by snakeling



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-01
Updated: 2006-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-07 04:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakeling/pseuds/snakeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry can't see much without his glasses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	None So Blind

“Fuck!”

The sudden movement had jostled the glasses off his nose and they had fallen on the floor. Not the first time it happened to him, but it was worse in a crowded, dark Muggle club. Harry fell to his knees and started to blindly pat around, looking for his glasses. He heard a distinct crack a few feet from him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Are you looking for these?”

His glasses were dangling from two fingers. He took them; both lenses were missing, and the nose piece was bent in U-shape. Harry groaned.

“Fuck.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see them.” The tone was apologetic.

Harry pocketed the useless things and squinted at the man.

“It’s all right. I should have switched to contacts years ago.” He extended a hand. “My name’s Harry.”

A firm hand gripped his and shook it. “Hello, Harry. I’m Tobias. May I buy you a drink in apology?”

Harry smiled. Tobias had a pleasant voice and a nice, tight grip. “Yes, but please, not here.”

He had a very attractive laugh as well, deep and sexy. “I know an excellent pub not far from here.”

Tobias took his hand and led him outside. In the somewhat hazy light of the street lamps, Harry could see that he had short, dark hair. His face was a big fleshy blob and Harry sighed, fiddling with the broken glasses in his pocket.

After Harry stumbled over a beer can he had not seen, Tobias took his arm, and they reached the King’s Head without further mishaps.

Over glasses of whisky, they talked about everything and nothing. Harry revealed that he was a soldier, recently discharged; Tobias had taught chemistry for a while, then worked for what he called a big, evil corporation as an engineer. He was even now looking for employment.

“Why not teach again?”

“Quite apart from the fact that I’m very sure my former school wouldn’t hire me back, there is no way I would volunteer to torture myself that way _again_.”

Harry laughed. “I’m searching too. I don’t know what I want to do with my life, except that I’m quite sure that I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Tobias nodded. “Do you know that when you laugh, you take your lower lip between your teeth?” he asked abruptly. “It makes indentations in your skin. I don’t think I’ve ever seen something as sexy.”

Harry put his glass down a little brutally. “Are you drunk?”

“Hmm. Maybe a little. Are you?”

“I should be more shocked, so yes, probably.”

“Would you let me fuck you, then?”

Harry looked at his glass as if it held answers. “There’re probably a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t, but. . . Your room or mine?”

“Mine’s across the road. Let’s go.”

Tobias left some money on the table, and they both stumbled out of the pub. Tobias hadn’t lied when he had said he lived across the road, and so they were safely ensconced in his flat only a few seconds later.

Tobias wasted no time in ridding them both of their clothes. He pushed on Harry’s shoulders until Harry dropped to his knees and found himself closer to a cock than he’d ever been. From this angle, it looked strange: really, really big and red and shiny. It smelt funny, too. Not bad, just not like a girl.

The cock in his hand definitely didn’t feel like a girl and Harry was overrun by the sudden urge to reach out and lick it. It tasted both strange and familiar: familiar because Harry liked to taste himself when he wanked; strange because it was another man’s cock, another man’s fluids.

Reminding himself that Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous, Harry took the head in his mouth. It felt a little spongy on his tongue, and the taste was rather heady. Then Tobias moaned and the knowledge that he had caused _that_ made Harry a little intoxicated. He wondered whether he could pull other sounds from Tobias.

But Tobias pulled him up all too soon. He pushed Harry onto the bed, and stretched over his back.

“You’re a dirty little cocksucker, aren’t you, Harry? You’ve got quite the talent with your mouth,” he whispered in his ear even as he ground his hard cock against Harry’s arse. Harry whimpered and pushed back against Tobias.

Tobias chuckled. “Oh yes, I’ll give you what you need.”

Without warning, he pushed a finger up Harry’s arse. There was something on it and it slipped in easily. Harry moaned and tried to impale himself further on that finger. Soon there was another beside it, both thrusting in and out.

Tobias pulled out for a second and positioned Harry on the bed, his head still on the pillow, his legs bent under him, his arse thrust high in the air. Harry was babbling he didn’t know what, quite sure he would die if Tobias didn’t fuck him, now!

The fingers were taken off and something bigger replaced them. There was pressure against his hole, then an odd sensation of fullness, of completeness, as if there had been something missing in Harry before. Harry pushed back, wanting more, harder, quicker.

Tobias obliged and began to fuck him in long, almost brutal strokes, sending Harry’s head against the bed and the bed against the wall with each thrust, until Harry saw stars and knew no more.

He came back, still in the same position, damp on his front and on his back. Tobias threw him a towel, and Harry, rolling over on his back with a grunt, cleaned himself perfunctorily.

He dropped the dirty towel over the edge of the bed in an automatic move, only half-waking when Tobias pushed him into the wet spot. Harry grunted, and scooted over against Tobias until they were spooned together.

* * *

Harry woke up alone. Both his wand and his repaired glasses were on the bedside table. Harry slipped the glasses on and clutched his wand warily.

“Breakfast is served.”

There was a naked man lounging on the doorstep and Harry blushed. The man had short black hair and a disturbing smirk on his face. He also looked familiar.

“My name’s Tobias, in case you don’t remember.”

The man’s smirk broadened.

“I—” Harry’s voice was barely more than a croak, and he coughed to clear up his throat. “I remember.”

“Good.” Tobias walked to the bed and extended a hand to Harry who took it up. He blushed again when he realised that he was naked, too, and that his body was reacting to Tobias’s closeness.

Tobias looked down and said, “Later.”

Harry wondered if he would ever stop blushing. He searched for another subject of conversation.

“You look familiar. Have we met before? Before yesterday, I mean?”

As he handed a bathrobe to Harry, Tobias raised an eyebrow sardonically, and suddenly Harry knew. Except it wasn’t possible, because Tobias couldn’t be more than thirty, and his eyes were blue, and the Order had found that badly charred body in Voldemort’s lab. But Tobias had repaired his glasses, and he hadn’t commented on his wand, and really how hard were a De-aging Draught and a Colour-Switching Collyre for a Potions Master?

“What did you say your last name was?”

In the kitchen, Tobias pulled a chair for Harry, then another for himself. They both sat down, and Tobias poured the tea while Harry looked at him expectantly.

“I didn’t. Prince. I’m Tobias Prince.”

Harry took a deep breath. He remembered Dumbledore’s death, and the memories he had willed Harry; he remembered six years of humiliation, and the delightful burn in his arse. Harry made his decision.

“Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you, Tobias Prince.”

Tobias nodded solemnly.

“Likewise, Harry Potter.”


End file.
